Writing Stuffs

Check Yes Juliet

Inspired by the We The Kings song

He waits outside on the sidewalk, rain falling from the sky and drenching him. Well, most of him anyways. He was glad he wore a leather jacket because the rain couldn't soak through it. His brown hair, though, stuck to his forehead. It didn't matter, though. He had reasons for being out in the pouring rain.

The sound of something hitting her window startled her and made her fall out of her chair. She got up, wiping her long blonde hair away from her face, and straightened out her clothes. With her luck, she thought, a bird just dove at her window looking for shelter and was now dead in the lawn. When she looked out the window, though, she wasn't prepared for what she saw.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at the boy. He dropped the pebbles in his hand and ran closer to her window.

"You stopped answering my calls, Juliet, what was I supposed to do?" he asked her. He watched her look away from him sadly before she answered.

"They took my phone away." He sifted his hands through his darkened hair and then shook it. "What was that last thing you texted me, Julie? 'I don't think it's working out. Maybe we should see other people'? What was that about?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders at him, still not looking at him. "I love you, I really do," she told him, "But my parents-"

"Who cares? Seriously, who cares?" he shouted, "They can't keep us from loving each other."

"Be quiet," she laughed, looking around quickly, "Someone will hear you."

"Juliet, come with me," The boy told her. She thought about it. She wanted oh so badly to leave with him, but her parents changed the locks and wouldn't give her a key. She had to call them in order to be let in the house and she knew they wouldn't let her back in after this.

"I can't," she told him, "I wouldn't be able to get back in."

"Do you really want to go back, Julie?" he asked her.

She looked down at her hand, staring at the promise ring he'd given her months ago. In all honesty, no. She didn't want to stay. She didn't think she'd want to come back if she left. She looked at him and held up one finger and said, "Wait a minute."

She packed her backpack with some clothes and a few things she just couldn't part with. Like the locket her grandmother had given her. Or the tiny ballerina, once again from her grandmother. She missed that woman so much. She sat on her bed to put on her shoes. She laced up her ratty, old black converse and moved over to the window. Before she looked out again, she looked at her room. There were so many memories in this room, good and bad, and she hated having to leave them behind. She knew she had to, though.

"How do you expect me to get down there?" she asked, "They'll notice if I leave through the door."

"Throw your bag," he said, holding his hands out like he was going to catch a football. She cringed, thinking of the few things she had in it that could break.

"Be careful with it," she said, earning a nod from him. She threw her bag down to him and, thankfully, he caught it. He put it down by his feet and then looked back up at her.

"Now jump," he said

"What?!" she exclaimed.

"I'll count down from three and then you jump, okay? I promise I'll catch you." She squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip, knowing though she'd do it anyways. She nodded her head and listened for his counting

"Three, Two, One." She jumped on one.

She threw her hands around his neck once she landed safely in his strong arms, mostly trying to get over the shock of jumping from a two story window. Once she'd finally composed herself he let her down next to him. She grabbed her bag and threw it over her shoulder.

"What now?" she asked, staring back at her house and then at him.

"Run."